


The Spice of Life

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Light Bondage, Masturbation, PWP, Polyamory, Sensation Play, Smut, Threesome, Voyeurism, f/f - Freeform, handjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 02:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: “You know what they say, right, spice is the spice of… wait, that’s not it. Jemma, what’s the spice of life?”“Variety.”-What started as a oneshot has evolved into a collection for all my FitzSkimmons smut. There is a brief description before each chapter so you can pick your poison(s).Most recent chapter: The girls make fun of Fitz for being bad at flirting, and he disagrees. They convince him to put his money where his mouth is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for a tumblr prompt: Fitz is nervous about trying [insert sexual activity here] so the girls decide to demonstrate in front of him to show him how safe & fun it is.
> 
> contains: threesome, voyeurism with consent, light bondage, masturbation, sensation play
> 
> Currently accepting prompts in the comments or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant). I reserve the right to pass on a prompt but if so, you're welcome to submit another. [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ApplePie_BananaMilkshakes/profile) are some guidelines if you're interested.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Come on, please?”

“There’s no harm in experimenting, Fitz - it’s part of a healthy sex life.”

“You know what they say, right, spice is the spice of… wait, that’s not it. Jemma, what’s the spice of life?” 

“Variety.” 

“Variety! See, the point still stands!”  
  
“I experiment!” Fitz had protested, waving the list they had given him emphatically. “I variet…ise… I just don’t think this is the way to go. Phone sex? Spanking? _Bondage? Really?”_

“They’re only suggestions,” Daisy had insisted, pouting a little for dramatic effect. Fitz had sighed, and waved off her cutesy plea for his acquiescence. 

“I’m just not feeling it,” he’d insisted. “Sorry. You know I can barely dirty-talk you two without feeling like a creep.”

Jemma had pouted more than both the other two, and plucked the list from Fitz’s hands. She’d looked it over, recalibrating, until she’d come up with a plan. 

“Look,” she’d said. “Obviously you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable doing, but what if Daisy and I _show_ you there’s nothing to worry about? I promise, lots of this stuff can be really fun. If you’re still uncomfortable with it, we’ll let it go, but I think Daisy and I should have a chance to plead our cases. Wouldn’t you say?” 

She’d looked up, from Fitz to Daisy and back again. Daisy’s expression had morphed from discontent to pure mischief, and Fitz, feeling his own smile tug at his lips – who were his girls if they wouldn’t give up this fight? – had sighed again and declared: 

_“Fine.”_

And that was how he’d ended up here, sitting on a chair in a shadowy corner of their bedroom, watching the cheesiest, most beginning-of-a-porno role-play he could ever remember seeing, taking place before his very eyes. It was not well plotted (but as Daisy had put it: “it’s not like D&D, Fitz; it’s just a thin layer of dress-ups over a lotta desire to bone”) but as far as Fitz could tell, Daisy was a scientist of some sort (“the sex sort, man, keep up,”) and Jemma was a volunteer subject for a “sensory experiment.” (“Which is actually –“ “Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”) 

It felt a little weird and out of place at first, to be watching. Daisy and Jemma had plenty of sexual encounters on their own, of course, but Fitz wasn’t usually in the room for those. For a while, he had to remind himself consciously that he had been invited, and was committing no violation of privacy. Of course, after a while the discomfort started to switch off. He was just a man, after all, and an invited one at that, and he knew what those bodies looked and felt like under Jemma’s day clothes and Daisy’s… sexy nurse costume? ( _Dear Lord.)_ He knew how good it was to hear those breathy voices whisper in his ear, and feel those lips on his skin and that skin on his lips. And he knew the only reason those sensual gazes were not being turned on him at this very moment was because he’d asked for them not to be. It was enough to make a man hard. Fitz shifted in his seat. 

“… We’ll just finish testing your perception,” Daisy murmured, her voice as light on Jemma’s skin as her fingers were. Jemma was holding her arms out, almost perpendicular to her body, and finding it a surprising struggle to keep them up as Daisy’s nimble, barely-there fingers seemed determined to melt her to her core. As usual, she had to give Daisy points for her dedication to foreplay. Jemma was usually too impatient for this. 

“Excellent,” Daisy praised, in that same soft tone. She stepped back, allowing Jemma to lower her arms as she took a few notes on a clipboard. Were they real notes, Jemma wondered? Or something ridiculous like _Jemma gets horny af when you whisper to her -_ not that the latter couldn’t be useful too, of course. 

“Now, if you’ll step over here,” Daisy invited, “I’ll need you to be undressed for the experiment. Completely, if you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all.”

Jemma bit her lip, flashing a smirk at Daisy. Though it was a button-up, she pulled her shirt off in one sweep, but slowed down a little for the rest of it. Daisy’s eyes wandered her body slowly, gratuitously, and the two of them smiled at each other – glad for this, and glad for the sounds of Fitz’s heavier breathing, in the corner. They’d change his mind about this yet. 

“Excellent,” Daisy said again, after she’d taken in enough (for now) of Jemma’s nakedness. “Now, lie down on the bed for me please. Are you comfortable? A nice temperature?” 

“A little chilly,” Jemma confessed. 

“A little chilly? I’ll turn up the thermostat.” 

Jemma was glad for those few extra degrees as she laid her body out for Daisy’s “experiment.” Her skin smoothed, no longer covered in goosebumps, but her nipples remained pert, craving attention. She rubbed them a little herself, but as Daisy returned from the thermostat dial she stopped. It was a remnant of another game they’d played, but one that made Daisy smile as she let one of Fitz’s ties roll out and hang from each of her hands.  
  
“Now, you’ll recall in the waiver you signed coming in,” Daisy said, “there was mention of your hands and eyes being bound so as not to interfere with our results. Are you still happy for this to occur?”

“Very happy.” Jemma nodded, and let Daisy crawl over and tie her hands to the bedpost above her head, and then blindfold her. She wondered what Fitz was feeling, watching his things take part in such a way. She wondered what he would feel if he’d known that in the original scenario, Daisy would have had him wear one of the ties, and at this point, would have walked over and taken it from around his neck. 

(Fitz, for his part, was feeling a lot. As promised, the two of them seemed to be having a lot of fun; the whole scenario didn’t seem nearly as oppressive as he’d envisioned it. And of course, Jemma lying naked and vulnerable and loving it, and Daisy showing a bit of that leadership and control in a whole new, sexy context – well, again, he was only a man. Now, only a man with an uncomfortably stiff hard-on, and an unbelievable craving to crawl out of his chair and take Jemma’s unattended nipple into his mouth. Watching as Daisy placed her lips there instead, where his longed to be, Fitz reached for the zipper of his pants.) 

Jemma sighed and moaned at the touch of Daisy’s mouth to her breast. Warm breath and cold air alternated their contact with skin and saliva, and Jemma trembled. Daisy only had one mouth, and couldn’t kiss both nipples at once, and Jemma found herself yearning to reach for Fitz to cover the other but her hands were bound and so she groaned instead, and stretched as much as her bonds would allow, until Daisy sat on her legs, pinning them to the mattress. With this, both of Jemma’s breasts were, all of a sudden, abandoned to the air. Jemma whimpered, and pouted up at Daisy, trying and failing to glare without eyes. 

“Cold,” she said, with both meanings of the word. 

“Now, now,” Daisy crooned, “that was just me getting carried away. The real experiment hasn’t started yet. Do you remember what we agreed?”

“Get on with it, then,” Jemma pressed. 

Daisy laughed at her petulance, but did indeed get on with it. There was a bowl of ice cubes and a pile of candles on the bedside table, and she picked up one of each. That got Jemma’s attention. Jemma hummed as she heard and smelt Daisy light the candle, and _ooh-_ ed – intrigue, a challenge – when she felt the ice cube rested on her sternum. Leaving the melting rivulets of cold to work their magic there, Daisy then set to work with the more delicate operation, carefully assessing the dynamics of the candle and how it melted and how she could use it, before dripping it on carefully selected places on Jemma’s skin. 

Now this, Fitz had never thought he’d find so hot. When Daisy had first lit the candle he’d been alarmed, but her calm and mastery with it was entrancing, and Jemma’s responsiveness, fascinating. At first it was ice between her breasts, and splashes of heat everywhere else and she gasped and coiled between her bound hands and where Daisy was still all but sitting on her. Then Daisy pulled another ice cube from the bowl, and with one hand worked the ice and the other the wax over the same skin, one after another, running smoothly everywhere until Jemma’s whole body was flushed with sensation and Fitz was so in tune with her that he could almost feel them on his own skin. He took a deep breath and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. The heat and the cool, on Jemma’s skin and on his own, drove him, and he stroked himself to the sounds of her pleasure. 

 _“Fuck,”_ Daisy whispered. She’d been maintaining an air of calm – albeit aroused calm – so far, in preparation for the wax activity, but Jemma’s gasps and moans and writhing naked body and now Fitz, pleasuring himself alongside them, was breaking through her walls. Her body was starting to rock of its own accord to Fitz’s rhythm and her mind got distracted and she spilled the candle in the wrong place by accident and Jemma yelped. 

“Sorry!” Daisy squeaked, but the mood was not yet spoilt. She blew out the candle and cast it aside, and ran ice over the wax, and then her tongue, massaging it until Jemma’s stress-tension relaxed and the right sort of tension started to build up again. She kissed and licked and rocked their hips together, easing them back to Fitz’s now pumping rhythm, increasingly glad for her absurdly short skirt and the way it allowed her and Jemma’s wet flesh to meet in a maelstrom of desire. She let the ice block fall away, abandoned in the sheets, and spread her body over Jemma’s, hungrily kissing her way back up to her face. She pulled the blindfold away so that she could watch Jemma properly as she brought all the sensation in her body down to the one place. 

She rocked. They rocked. Their hips rocked and rocked together and even Jemma picked up the rhythm as best she could. The bed was rocking. Their whole world was rocking, and their breaths falling in time as if to keep the beat. Daisy’s fingers made their way between Jemma’s legs and inside her, the skin and the wetness and the heat and cold and the rocking all concentrating in one place so that Jemma’s breaths became little gasps, became little moans, became _ah – ah – ah – ah –_ faster and faster and louder and louder until she broke like a wave on a beach.

 _“DAISY!”_ she called, breathless, her body lurching forward. Daisy unstrung her wrists immediately, and Jemma’s hands sought out her shoulders for support. Daisy grasped back just as desperately, kissing Jemma firmly as if to ground herself as she tried to keep a rhythm while her own orgasm sang through her. They existed only together, only in a blur of kisses and (albeit sloppier) touches, until their steadying breaths and the gradual return of the cool air through the haze of heat eased them down, sweaty and wild and laughing. 

It was at this point that they turned to look at Fitz. They found him still in his chair but with his legs apart and his fly undone and his head thrown back against the seat, just as spent as they were, and smiling just as deliriously. 

“Okay,” he confessed, taking concerted effort to pool his attention. “So some of those things might be fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pre-FSK. Daisy overhears FitzSimmons having sex, but rather than annoy her as she is expecting, it gets her.... hot and bothered.
> 
> Contains: voyeurism without explicit consent, masturbation, fantasy
> 
> Currently accepting prompts in the comments or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant). I reserve the right to pass on a prompt but if so, you're welcome to submit another. [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ApplePie_BananaMilkshakes/profile) are some guidelines if you're interested.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Oh, Fitz, you’re so handsome, ah-ha-ha!” Daisy mocked, and rolled her eyes as she turned the page and tried to concentrate. She had a history final coming up but her neighbours – Jemma Simmons and her boyfriend, Fitz - had a whole different type of coming planned. Still in the newlywed phase of their relationship, they had plenty of flirty conversation and nervous laughter going on, and while Daisy was fully supportive in theory, she was not in the mood for hearing that all night. 

But tonight, apparently, neither were they.

And call it curiosity, call it voyeurism, call it… well, procrastination, let’s be honest, but either way, Daisy looked up when she heard a change in conversation through the wall behind her. She peered ahead, as if it would help her decipher the words somehow, but it did not. There was only a muffled, mumbling sound. Deeper than usual. Laughter, but not uptight and nervous. A freer sound. The thud of something falling off a table. A book? 

 _“Oh, Fitz,”_ Jemma moaned, and this time it was not the exaggerated lament of an embarrassed friend, but the inviting plea of a lover. Daisy hesitated. 

“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered, looking around her bed as if trapped. She couldn’t leave now. They’d hear her. And where would she go? She had work to do. But she couldn’t stay. Not now that she’d been _listening._ Listening enough to hear the creak of the bedsprings as – or so she imaged – Fitz crawled over Jemma and peppered her with kisses. Listening enough to hear that the muffled sounds were muffled by each others mouths now. And that the book had probably fallen off the bedside when they’d reached for the drawer. For the… 

Daisy closed her eyes. She knew Fitz, knew Jemma, knew the way they looked at each other. The way they moved around each other like finely tuned mechanics. The way they knew what each other wanted. She could picture Jemma’s confident smirk as the night headed exactly where she’d wanted it, her hands roaming over Fitz’s body, tugging at the buttons on his shirt. She could picture Fitz, probably a little more nervous – he just seemed that way, somehow – but determined to show his lady a good time. Maybe he’d even brought a rose. Or maybe he just knew that sucking on the pulse point of Jemma’s neck would make her –

_“Ah!”_

Normally, Daisy would have rolled her eyes, but she knew the intensity of that feeling. She could almost feel it, and let her head loll back as if in sympathy with Jemma’s pleasure as she listened to the bedsprings readjust. They whispered to each other. 

 _“God, Jemma,”_ Fitz moaned, and Daisy thought, maybe she was touching him. Jemma always had been curious, and a bit of a tease. She’d probably have liked to have a play with him before she let him in. She’d take her time unzipping his belt – and be far more delicate about it than Daisy was with her own, desperate as she was to relieve the pressure all of a sudden. Jemma would probably poke fun at him, just a little, and he’d be losing his mind, not unlike Daisy was, lying here on her own. Fitz probably hadn’t had sex in at least as long as she had, and if he was anywhere near as horny as she was, the pleasure must be uncontrollable. 

 _“Jemma, please,”_ Fitz begged eventually, his voice a little strained. Daisy whimpered in empathy. Even under her own fingers, she felt raw, and screaming for attention. Under Jemma’s, who he worshipped, Fitz would be desperate to get closer… to get inside… to follow the path the Daisy’s fingers were making over her own flesh, but on Jemma’s, he would touch her, maybe even service her like a gentleman, if he had time – but not tonight, it seemed, as Jemma murmured her sweet nothings and Fitz sighed in relief. And then Jemma, and then Daisy did, as she slipped two fingers up inside herself. Hey, if she didn’t have someone to invite over and torture her friends with, she might as well enjoy it. History was out the window anyway. It’s not like she could have possibly expected herself to focus with those telltale sex signs screaming at her through the wall. The bedsprings. Even the headboard – damn, Fitz – on the odd strong thrust when they were too close. 

Daisy’s free hand grabbed at her sheets, brushed at her neck, pulled at her lips. She could imagine hands, skin, tongue touching, but she couldn’t do it all herself. Still, for now at least, it was enough for now to let herself get lost in their rhythm, and find her pleasure vicariously through the pleasure of her friends. Well, through that and the biology of the nerve bundles that her fingers rediscovered as she surrendered her mind and body to the feelings. Maybe it didn’t have the same ring to it as the touch of an undying romance would have, but Daisy didn’t care much for such thoughts as she drifted down again gently on the wings of post-masturbatory bliss. Then all she wanted, she realised as she looked around at her empty room, was to do something about these un-friendship-like feelings after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: FitzSkimmons + naked play wrestling  
> aka: Fitz gets a handjob - this is for you bb, sorry for denying you orgasms in like 90% of my smut
> 
> -
> 
> Accepting prompts (smut or otherwise) in the comments or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant). I reserve the right to pass on a prompt but if so, you're welcome to submit another. [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ApplePie_BananaMilkshakes/profile) are some guidelines if you're interested.

Daisy laughed as she felt the breath knocked out of her as Fitz dumped her, somehow ceremoniously, onto the mattress. He had one arm barred across her chest, pinning her there, and the other with his fingers entwined in hers and stretched out to the side, as if they were dancing. 

“Damn,” Daisy remarked, a little lightheaded as she squirmed her legs, running her feet over the smooth sheets so that tingles ricocheted up her body. “When did you get so strong?” 

She smirked, relishing Fitz’s confidence for a moment. Not one to let her know how distracted he’d become by the breasts he was pressing, though, Fitz smirked back. He leaned in to kiss her, claiming victory –

Only to feel a sharp shock when something brushed against his penis, and soft skin slid up his body, and the last thing he saw was Jemma’s cheeky grin before she kissed his speechless lips and he had to forfeit the match. After that, Daisy was only too happy to let Jemma twist over on top of her, and kiss her sweetly. They beamed at each other, the picture of innocence, and Fitz protested. 

“You!” He pointed from one to the other and back, his indignance only amplified by his bold nudity and the way his cheeks and neck flushed red. “Scheming minxes, the both of you! You planned that!” 

Jemma shrugged, her pouting lips only making matters worse.

“It’s not our fault you have external body parts,” she pointed out. 

Fitz’s lip twitched. She spoke as if he were not acutely aware of said body parts, and the way they stood stiff in the breeze, begging for attention? The nerve! 

“We do too, you know,” Daisy pointed out, and pouted, and swaggered over to him. “Have external body parts, I mean. Just not so accessible. You might need to get a little more – assertive.” 

Punctuating her point, she wrapped a hand firmly around his hard cock. Fitz hissed through his teeth, and resisted the urge to close his eyes as Daisy lifted herself onto her toes – making sure to slide her breasts against him for good measure.

“Do you want a rematch?” she offered, in a saucy stage whisper, “or shall we skip straight to the championship round?” 

Fitz took a deep breath. He’d never had the bedroom stamina the girls had, and in the background, Jemma crinkling a condom packet was maddeningly tempting. Was there a sexual equivalent to a stomach rumble? Other than the boner that seemed to throb with desire every time Daisy so much as breathed? For a moment, his tongue struggled with wordless desire and his breath stuck in his throat as if afraid his next inhale would smell too much like her.

“Be nice, babe,” Jemma cautioned Daisy, but the instant Fitz felt her release the pressure, he snapped into action, and grabbed her wrist to stop her hand from moving away. 

Daisy’s expression lit up with mischief. 

“Ooh, here we go,” she purred, following his lead to wrap her hand back around his shaft and tease it a little. Fitz watched her fingers work, and felt every corresponding tug of desire until it drew a whine out of his throat. Then he looked up at the ceiling, at anything else, because the feeling alone was becoming enough to make his toes curl. 

“You like that?” Daisy murmured as she worked. “Aw, poor thing. Such a sore loser. Just need some attention, don’t you?” 

“Are you – talking to my penis?” Fitz wondered, still fighting to keep his eyes on the ceiling. “Actually, you know what, I don’t even care. _God_ …” 

“Daisy is fine.”

“ _Ugh._ You’re terrible. You’ve been waiting all night to make that pun, haven’t you?” Fitz groaned, a combination of frustration and desire, and Daisy laughed. 

“Brave, to scold a woman who’s holding your dick in her hands,” she teased, smirking to herself as she swiped a little of Fitz’s pre-cum and rubbed it back over him. Subconsciously, almost, he thrust a little into her hands, and hummed in satisfaction. She pressed harder. Getting close. 

“Need some help over there?” Jemma offered, by now quite enjoying the show. She’d set up some water and condoms and toys by the bedside, and was patiently waiting to pounce. 

“Ya boy needs a pill if he’s going to keep playing,” Daisy pointed out. “We’re almost done here. Oh, yeah.” 

“Coming right up,” Jemma agreed. 

“That’s what he said.” 

Daisy glanced upward, waiting for Fitz’s objection, but from the look of him he was too far gone to have even heard them. Satisfied with both their efforts, she added a twist that brought him undone, and savoured his breathy little moan. She danced on the spot a little, rubbing her wet legs together, and feeling quite flushed herself by the look of utter surrender on Fitz’s face. 

It only lasted a moment, and then he was back in reality – and quite proud, Daisy noted, to have left his mark on her, even as he knocked back the pill Jemma had brought over. Droplets of the water that followed it lingered in his stubble, drawing Daisy’s sensitive attention to his cut jaw and his throat and to the aching desire that had opened up inside her just a little too late for Fitz to quench it.

Jemma smiled, knowingly. 

“Now,” she offered, “is there anything I can help _you_ with?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: for @Rando029 - "The three of them just got back from a mission and the ladies decide to help Fitz "decompress" by sneaking him into the new bigger showers...."
> 
> this is also for Fitz, because I don't get him off enough ;)
> 
> Currently accepting prompts (smutty or otherwise) here or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant). I reserve the right to pass on a prompt but if so, you're welcome to submit another. [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ApplePie_BananaMilkshakes/profile) are some guidelines if you're interested.

As the Zephyr pulled in for landing, Fitz shifted in his seat once again, and tugged at the straps of his seatbelt. Jemma frowned.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she wondered, concerned. 

“Yeah,” Fitz replied, though he couldn’t stop fidgeting. “Still just a little wired, that’s all. It’ll wear off.” 

“Mmm, I get that,” Daisy agreed – and then, with a slightly saucier tone to her voice, added – “You know what usually helps me _wear_ it _off_?”

Jemma grinned salaciously. Fitz narrowed his eyes, suspicious – and sure he knew exactly where this was going. 

“What?” 

As soon as the cargo ramp was down, the girls bundled Fitz off. Sordid whispers passed between them, and although he didn’t catch many, he equally didn’t object, except to half-heartedly remind them that Coulson had called them back for debriefing in a half hour. 

“Plenty of time,” Daisy promised. 

Lord, Fitz thought, her hands were warm. 

“Wait - this way, this way,” Jemma ushered, tugging at the straps on his and Daisy’s gear to usher them down the chosen hall. “The new ones.” 

“Oh, those are done?” 

“Just in time.” 

With a sparkle in her eye, Jemma pushed open the door to the newest Shield showers. They were bigger than before, and re-tiled, so though dark they were much more inviting than they had once been – though, Fitz was hardly one to talk: two of the sexiest women in the world alternately stripping themselves, each other, and him, would have made most places in the world inviting at this point. Belatedly, he joined in the party, helping Daisy pull her shirt off over her head while Jemma unbuckled her pants and shucked them to the side before rejoining them in the cubicle, of sorts, they’d stumbled into. 

Fitz was the only one of them still wearing pants, though his shirt and the rest of his gear lay abandoned on the floor outside. He waited, a little dazed, wondering half-heartedly if he should take them off while most of his attention flipped irrationally between his buzzing nerves and his girls, both standing before him in nothing but their underwear. Daisy rocked from one foot to the other, hands on her hips, herself becoming frustrated by the very requirement that they stop to think about their steps moving forward. Jemma smirked; amused by this, and by Fitz, and by the debasement and debauchery that was to follow.

“So,” she asked. “How are we going to play this?” 

“Double team him?” Daisy suggested. 

Fitz gave a little, muffled snort. He was half hard already just from staring a little too long at the curve of Daisy’s ass where it stuck out of her underwear. His libido was slowly winning its war against his nerves and whatever _double teaming_ was, he had a feeling it just might give it the edge. 

“Are you definitely up for this, Fitz?” Daisy checked, sidling toward him with a special, salacious sort of confidence. “This little… home remedy of mine?” 

As she ran her hands down his chest, Fitz spared a moment to be grateful that she hadn’t had time to change into proper lingerie or he may just be dead by now. Knowing what she could do with those shoulders was hard enough, and her hands were so warm his skin seemed to burn where she touched it, right down to his belt buckle. Pausing there, Daisy met his eyes again – her own burning with stormy desire – and as if wheedled by the best kind sorcery from his lips, the invitation slipped out: 

“Do whatever you want to me.” 

Daisy felt a tingle to her core at the raspy, desperate desire in his voice. She was almost tempted to kiss the awestruck look off his face, but they were short on time. Best get down to business. 

“You heard the man,” Jemma prompted. 

Daisy didn’t need to be told twice. With bold and precise moves she pushed him back against the wall, wrenched his pants and then his jocks out of the way, grabbed his nervous half-hard dick, and massaged it relentlessly until she could see in his eyes that desire was winning. She could feel it in her hand, heavy and hard, and a little muffled grunt of desire escaped her lips. What she wouldn’t give to straddle him right then and there. But no – this was the best way to share. 

“God, that’s hot,” Jemma murmured, as Daisy gestured for her to come forward. She had a bit of unwinding to do of her own and she was quite sure that standing here watching Daisy jerk Fitz off would take care of it, no problem. All the same, she wasn’t about to turn down an invitation to join in: she pulled the elastic tight in her hair and crept further into the cubicle, trying not to lick her lips. 

“Shit,” Fitz whispered, unsure what to do with his hands, but finding that he didn’t really care. It wasn’t his own hands he need concern himself with: Daisy’s stroked and squeezed the length of him with deftness and ease, keeping him hard and slowly easing him out from the shellshock of his nerves. She worked him as easily as shuffling a deck of cards, but he wanted _more._ More pressure, more friction, more _something._ Trying not to make embarrassing sounds this early in the game – and failing – he thrust into her hand. 

“I think we’re ready here, Doctor,” Daisy invited. “Would you like to do the honours?” 

“Oh, of course.” 

She met Fitz’s eyes with a devilish glimmer in her own as she sank to her knees. 

“Jemma…” he murmured, a little hesitant. This was not the first time she’d gone down on him, of course, but usually there was a lot more kissing involved. He liked to get personal, not usually one for quickies. 

“Try grabbing my hair,” she suggested, and he did, and found his hesitation sated. He felt connected to her through the touch, and somehow, like he was helping – even though she was completely in control, and could have asked anything of him, as she slid her mouth over the length of him. Daisy wasn’t helping either: her attention had moved to the fingers of his spare hand, but if anything she had become more sexual with her movements, kissing and fondling them so that he had maddening sensation running through him from all sides. 

 _“Fuck,”_ Fitz whispered to himself, his lips desperate to touch their skin but the rest of his body devoid of the desire to do anything to disturb this bliss. Daisy’s tongue incapacitated his free hand. Jemma’s fingers dug into his legs, and cupped his balls, and her mouth gave such skilled and powerful attention to his dick that he was beginning to wonder why he’d let them drag him all the way here instead of just fucking his brains out right there on the Zephyr.

It was just at that moment, however, that he felt the pressure suddenly release. Jemma was still massaging with her hands, but she smiled knowingly up at him. 

“Ooh, baby, you _really_ like that,” she crooned, stroking the leaking precum from his tip – and offering it to Daisy, who licked it from her finger as one might chocolate sauce, and smiled at Fitz, who couldn’t even decide what sound to make because _there were so many options._ Fuck, he wished they had all the time in the world so that he could take them both back up to the bedroom and take his time with them – or not even that, simply take his turn with them, until they were both feeling this burning, speechless desire that he was feeling. 

“I think it’s time, babe,” Jemma remarked to Daisy. “Want to give me a little help down here?” 

“Please.” 

Daisy gave his pointer finger one last, luxurious lick – scraping her teeth just a little, for effect – before popping his hand out of her mouth. She was willing to take her time kneeling next to Jemma, but when Fitz’s hand entangled in her hair and pulled her down, she was ready. 

“I think –“ she speculated.

“Faster?” Jemma offered. 

“He wants to go faster.”

Daisy took him into her mouth as quickly as she could get reaccustomed to his size, and then began the movement; easing it up past Jemma’s speed as fast as she could without losing the _oomph._ She thought she might lose rhythm for a second there, but Jemma saved it, reaching her hand in to fondle Fitz’s balls and putting a little extra force into it.

“ _Fuck,_ Daisy,” Fitz hissed.

 _“Fuck, Daisy,”_ Jemma repeated, whispering it straight into her ear, and sending a shudder of desire through her. She always drew out that word, and it always worked. Daisy wasn’t even sorry as one of her hands wandered astray, thinking for a whisper that she might touch herself – or Jemma, but could she keep her rhythm with both of them at once? 

A moment later the decision was made for her, as Jemma stood behind her and she was forced to recommit to keeping her angle and not losing her balance – or her mind, as Jemma made a point of rubbing their bodies together on the way up. Then, stepping in as close as she could to Fitz with Daisy still between them, Jemma offered a kiss like a parting dream: one that was hot, but not meaty enough to satisfy him entirely. 

“Ah, fuck,” Fitz whispered as the distance put between them by Daisy’s body tore Jemma away – yet he could not hate that distance, because Daisy was pleasuring him so. His nerves by now were well and gone, replaced by a coiled spring of a different nature as Jemma smirked and nudged Daisy aside. 

“Budge up,” she insisted. “I’m coming back down.”

Daisy hummed her acknowledgement into Fitz’s dick, which gave off a surprising yet viciously pleasant tingling sensation, and he relocated his grip on her hair in anticipation of the grand finale. He was getting close and they both knew it, conspiring excitedly as they navigated around each other to share his dick, each taking a side between them. Fitz thrust enthusiastically between them: he was full almost to bursting and it had been _so long._

“Hey – you –“ Jemma commanded, between strokes. 

“Eyes – here –“ Daisy insisted. “’n you better – turn the water on – ‘nless you want this to get messy.”

Fitz hissed, reluctant to let go of the girls and even more so when his hand did not immediately find the faucet. His breath started to hitch and he clamoured more desperately around for it, a string of curse words and _Jemma_ and _Daisy_ falling from his lips as he fought to contain himself until, with a jet of water and cum, he was finally released. 

Jemma shrieked, spluttering and laughing and trying to get it out of her face. Fitz slid down the shower wall, as all the relief and exhaustion that had been pent up behind his knotted nerves came spilling out. Daisy, unfazed by the shower, knelt beside him and massaged the rest of the cum from his dick with her hands, smiling victoriously. 

“See?” she reminded him when she was done, showing him her well-oiled palms before letting the shower clean them. “Effective, isn’t it?” 

“No argument there,” Fitz panted. “I fucking love you ladies, you know that?” 

“You can show us just how much, after the debrief,” Jemma suggested. 

It took a second to dawn on him that she was not just making an innuendo. His head dropped back against the tiles with a crack and he groaned.

“Oh, fuck.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for Rando029. Thanks for the prompt! It was a bit of a challenge but I enjoyed it in the end. I hope you do to!
> 
> It's Jemma's birthday so Fitz and Daisy decide to fulfil one of her fantasies.
> 
> Contains: dildo/strapon, double vaginal penetration
> 
> Currently accepting prompts (smutty or otherwise) here or on tumblr (@theclaravoyant). I reserve the right to pass on a prompt but if so, you're welcome to submit another. [here ](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ApplePie_BananaMilkshakes/profile) are some guidelines if you're interested. *Please note, as it may come up based on the contents of this chapter, that I do not at this time write anything involving anal play or penetration. Thanks for you consideration.

The entire evening was a beautiful, if simple, affair. The excellent dinner, the walk on the beach, and the sample of luxurious chocolates as they welcomed themselves to the hotel room would have been more than enough. Jemma was already feeling astoundingly content by the time she found out that the ridiculously large bathtub came with an assortment of soaps, oils and salts. Fitz and Daisy insisted that she help herself to them, and she had grown so relaxed in her blissful – and now, lavender-infused – state, that by the time she got out again, she had almost forgotten the buzzing energy that had been hovering around her partners all night. She remembered, when a knuckle lightly rapped on the bathroom door. 

“Jemma?” Fitz invited. “Are you ready for presents?” 

At this, Jemma felt a tingle of mischievous intuition. She already knew that her main gift was to be a silver and sapphire bracelet. She’d helped pick it out. Then again… she’d also been ‘helping’ to nudge Fitz and Daisy toward something else lately, and with their timing, and their excitement, she couldn’t help but think they might have been picking up what she’d been putting down. Trying not to grin too hard to herself, Jemma slipped a robe loosely over her shoulders and sidled back into the room. 

Her eyes zeroed in on where Fitz and Daisy waiting by the lounge… and on the mysterious gifts laid out before them. There was, of course, the small, elegant box that no doubt bore her bracelet, but beside it was another. A box about the size of a small appliance, perhaps a toaster, home-wrapped in black, which was an odd choice of colour – but an exciting one. 

“Well, well, well,” Jemma mused, flicking her eyes up to Fitz and Daisy’s faces after a teasingly long linger. “Doesn’t this look thrilling?” 

All three of them bubbled their way through the pleasantries about the bracelet with as much decorum as they could manage – and then Daisy all but shoved the other box into Jemma’s arms. Biting her lip to contain her own excitement, Jemma pulled the wrapping away and retrieved her gift: a bright-pink dildo, draped in an assortment of straps. She recognised the weight of it, the size and shape of it. She was not sure exactly how or why or when she’d learnt to recognise it, but this right here was Fitz. 

Jemma’s jaw slackened, and she glanced between them. “No. You _didn’t.”_

“Oh, we did,” Daisy confirmed, biting her tongue with a cheeky glance at Fitz. “And it’s not half-bad, if he does say so himself.” 

“Sorry about the colour,” Fitz put in. “It was just too weird, to make it realistic.” 

“No, I like it,” Jemma promised, handling it more than necessary just to watch him squirm. “And don’t worry. It could never compete with the real thing. Complement it… perhaps.” 

She drew her fingers along its length, and grinned to herself knowing that Fitz could feel it working on him. Even Daisy was getting quite worked up already. 

“Want to try it out?” she offered. 

“Mm, yes please.” 

“Meet you in the bedroom in five.” 

Jemma loved to make an entrance, but she also was a fan of instant gratification when it came to matters of a sexual nature. Giving Daisy time to strap up, however, did allow her to find a compromise, and so by the time she sought her partners out in the bedroom, she was naked with her hair appropriately mussed, and her nether regions perfumed for good measure. Part of her wished she’d thought to bring some sensuous undergarment or other, but complete nudity did have its advantages. 

One of those advantages – though she was not sure her naked body held it over lingerie; she would have to experiment in future – was that it drew Fitz and Daisy’s attention from scarcely a step back through the door. Speechless, they dragged their eyes over her as if her pearl-skinned form were all they’d ever dreamed and more. Eyes wide, jaws slackened, they were positively enthralled by the time they reached her face – and to be honest, Jemma was a little heartbroken when she saw them pull themselves together, even slightly. 

“Lipstick’s a little too purple, I think,” she remarked faux-casually, “but well, I did the best I could. Now, are we going to dance, or what? It’s getting cold down there without my underpants on.” 

She smirked, devilish and teasing, and crooked her finger at Fitz. He came in hot and hungry, with a passionate kiss and warm, whispering hands that ghosted over her skin, giving it attention but always making her crave more. Eagerly, Jemma snaked around him; evasive yet flashy, drawing him to chase her without ever leaving his embrace - and not minding in the slightest that her tease was a peacock display right in front of Daisy, daring her to join the fray. 

“Are you going to let him have all the fun?” Jemma wondered, glancing over her shoulder as Fitz kissed his way down her neck. He grabbed her ass, and pulled her close, and she ground into him with enthusiasm, but her eyes were on Daisy. Daisy’s eyes, meanwhile, were trained on where Fitz’s fingers kneaded Jemma’s ass. Her face felt flushed. 

“Oh, believe me,” she managed, finally forcing her eyes upward with a light blush kissing her cheeks, “he’s not having all of it.”

“Even so,” Jemma insisted, “I’d like to try my new toy. Come here.” 

Fitz relinquished his tight hold, letting Jemma turn in his arms. He played with her hair and neck, and brushed her hips and belly, but he left her front open to Daisy. Stroking the length of the strapon shaft as if she could somehow prepare it – or herself, her core tingling with desire underneath - Daisy stepped forward. Jemma smiled, admiring her… and it. As though experimenting with Daisy’s connection to the dildo, she stroked and played with it eagerly, and bit her lip as the hard evidence of the real Fitz’s arousal rubbed up against her backside. 

“Oh, yes,” she murmured, as if weighing it up. Almost experimentally, she stroked the tip between her legs, and Daisy sucked a sharp breath in. Jemma let herself moan, just to send the others reeling as tingles rushed through her. She felt herself growing wet, and knew that Daisy must have noticed too – and it was not just Daisy: Fitz was sneaking his hand around her hips now, trying to get his fingers involved in the game. 

“Are you ready, love?” he whispered in her ear, rubbing at her clit so that she had to bite her lip. “Are you ready for Daisy now?”

“Mm,” Daisy moaned, continue to slide the dildo between Jemma’s slick folds and over her clit and around again. “Yeah, she is. Look at that, you’re so wet, Jemma. D’you want me in yet?” 

“Oh _God,_ yes,” Jemma begged, and Daisy slid up and in with a fluid movement.

Jemma cried out at the sensation, full up all of a sudden, and Daisy cut her off with a kiss. She groaned, and kissed back with enthusiasm, biting Daisy’s lip and grabbing at her hair to encourage her to move. When Jemma’s knees went weak, Fitz hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her, spreading her legs so that Daisy could thrust in and out with ease. Jemma threw her body back against Fitz’s, searching for his face and hair with her fingers and rubbing herself against him like a cat, even as her legs wrapped around Daisy’s hips to urge her closer. Passing Jemma between them like an elaborate acrobatic routine, Daisy took over support of her legs, freeing Fitz’s hands to feel their way over her belly to her breasts. There he fondled, palmed and twisted with relish – greatly enjoying the way Jemma moaned and writhed, and Daisy bit her tongue and watched with delicious envy. It was he who should have been envious, however, since Daisy was the one who got to watch Jemma finally cum. 

And that was not all they had planned. 

Fitz gasped with relief when Daisy pulled Jemma away from him, leading her giddy, orgasm-riddled body to the bed. Biting his lip, he pulled his hard cock from his pants and jocks, hoping the cool evening air would do something to calm the strain. This next part, he’d heard, was an intense experience and most guys didn’t last long their first time trying it. He had a feeling the elusive ‘they’ were going to be right this time.

“How’re you going, lover boy?” Daisy checked, though her eyes were on Jemma, sprawled out on the bed.

“Good to go,” Fitz promised, the tenderness in Daisy’s eyes tempering his anxiety somewhat. There was such peace between them in that moment, bright pink dildo or no. “God, I love it when she’s all soft and horny.” 

“Me too,” Daisy agreed, smiling to herself and drawing a finger over slowly over Jemma’s skin. 

“Me three.” Jemma grinned, a slightly dreamy grin, but a saucy one all the same. She sat up, her breasts still heaving in such a way that Fitz’s desire-addled brain couldn’t tell – and didn’t really care – if it was real. She drew a circle around one of them, and Daisy took this as an invitation to take over; a move which Jemma seemed to very much approve. 

“Alright,” Daisy suggested as Jemma’s arousal began to perk up again. “Are you ready to hop back on? We’ve gotta get you ready before Fitz comes in, okay?” 

Jemma bit her lip, nodding fiercely, her eyes meeting Fitz’s smouldering ones and her throat trying not to betray the hapless moan of desire she felt at the very thought of what was about to come next. It was a surreal experience, living out one’s most whimsical fantasies. The anticipation alone was almost enough to make a mess of her all over again.

“Face him this time, alright?” Daisy instructed. “That’s a girl.” 

Jemma moaned and whimpered a little, happily putting on a show as she lavished the sensation of the dildo sliding back into her soft and swollen entrance. Her first orgasm of the night still trembled through her every now and then, but she found that rather than tiring, her arousal was simply heightened by the added sensitivity. Plus, with this new angle and Daisy now palming at her breasts from behind, it was hard not to lose herself to the world. To use Fitz’s size and shape for the strap-on had been a brilliant piece of innovation on her self-confessed fantasy, and she almost couldn’t be happier or more fulfilled than in this moment – except of course, by Fitz himself. 

She reached out for him, and cried out when Daisy’s dildo reached a new angle inside her because of it. Fitz stepped into her arms, kissing the pleasure-filled agony from her lips, and Jemma gasped with need. Daisy rolled her hips, thrusting into her steadily, keeping her ready without meaning to rush anyone, but the need only grew alongside the pleasure. 

“Please, Fitz,” Jemma begged. “Come fill me. I want you. I want both of you, inside me. Please.” 

“Your wish is my command,” Fitz promised. He slid his cock over her entrance, but couldn’t seem to find a way in. Jemma squirmed in anticipation, which only made it worse.

“You got this, Fitz,” Daisy encouraged. “Don’t be afraid to put a little elbow grease into it. She’s gonna be stuffed with us both in there, but she can take it. Jemma – lean back, come on, give him space. Open up.” 

Jemma moaned as she rolled backward, so that her body was almost flush against Daisy’s. She opened her legs wider, and Daisy helped her lift them, cupping under her knees. Fitz bit his lip. He’d been doing so well controlling his nerves, he’d hate to mess it up now. The new angle, however, was much more agreeable and, with Daisy’s encouragement in mind – not to mention Jemma’s, though it was somewhat less eloquently put – he pushed through his nerves and into her. A familiar warmth and pressure enveloped him, and he let out a little moan of satisfaction. Jemma did, too – only, hers turned into a strangled shout at the ceiling, throwing her head back as she cried, _“YES!”_

With that affirmation, Fitz’s nerves were gone. If Jemma wanted him to fill her to the best of his capacity then that’s what he would do. There was a brief stumble to find his synergy with Daisy, but soon enough he was thrusting her with all the same fervour that he usually possessed. The strange sensation of rubbing up against the dildo wasn’t half bad either, though it took his body a second to get used to having two different sensations for the price of one. It was somehow like having sex and getting a handjob at the same time. No bloody wonder so many found it hard to last. 

Daisy, meanwhile, was struggling to keep Jemma’s legs up and out of the way as Fitz’s increasingly frenzied movements shook all three of them. She bit her lip, and embraced the feeling of Jemma’s weight rocking on top of her, and the fantasy piecing itself together in her mind, that it was she who Fitz was taking right now. She wanted to throw her legs around him and urge him deeper, but she knew that it was all in her head – and that if she moved her legs or hips too much now, she’d throw Jemma off. _Fuck,_ being this connected was a trip and a half, and she was barely even moving. 

 _“Ah – “_ Jemma gasped. “Oh, Fitz – Daisy – ah, this is – _mmnh -_ “ 

“You’re – telling me –“ Fitz replied, and gave a snort of laughter. Jemma was so tremulously close now, he couldn’t bear to steal her thunder, but it was starting to feel like he wouldn’t have a choice. The tension was addictive, rising with thrust after thrust, like a soda can being shaken, until he felt like his whole body was tingling with it. Jemma’s groans and mewling sounds of pleasure were only making it worse, and as Daisy abandoned her dwindling efforts as a leg-prop and returned the attention of her hands to Jemma’s breasts, he had to close his eyes for a moment to try and pull himself together. 

It didn’t work, and with a gasp of breath and a cut-off curse he came inside her. He couldn’t bring himself to regret beating her to the punch, though – firstly because of the lightning-rod of pleasure burning his senses, but secondly, because it seemed to be just what Jemma needed. That final burst of sensation sent her keening into orgasm, back arching as it shot through her with far more intensity than the first. Her elbows buckled and she collapsed backward onto Daisy. Fitz pulled out and staggered to get his bearings.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “That was intense! Did you feel that?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Daisy agreed, leaving a long, burning-hot kiss on Jemma’s neck as if she could exorcise her own pent-up desire through it. Her fingers whispered over Jemma’s clit, drawing out the shuddering aftershocks that melted her into a warm puddle of post-coital bliss, and she slipped the strapon free. Even though she hadn’t cum herself, Daisy waved off Fitz’s offer to finish the job. She was content just to watch Jemma bask in her own afterglow: blissful smile and flushed cheeks, skin glistening with sweat, body trembling noticeably with the pleasure still rippling through it. Little whimpers crept out occasionally, as she tried and failed to catch her breath. Daisy swept a lock of her hair aside and looked down into her sparkling eyes with a smile.

“Did you like that, sweetie?” 

“Mmmm.” Jemma sighed at the cool touch of the sheets and stretched out languorously, embracing the cloudlike luxury against her hot and hypersensitive skin. She was in bliss, and with every shiver that ran through her, the satisfaction renewed. She could have gone for orgasm number three, but why waste this? 

_Best birthday ever._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: FitzSkimmons + oral sex.
> 
> The girls tease Fitz for being bad at flirting. He disagrees, so the girls convince him to put his money where his mouth is. Oral sex, obviously.

“So, I was thinking if I switch these two slides around,” Jemma suggested, waving her finger at her screen as if to gesture, though she knew Fitz could not see it from where he was sitting on the bed. “I feel like introducing the example first might work better in this context is all.”

“No, I see it, I’m just wondering if that doesn’t cause confusion, it’s not cohesive with the rest of the presentation. Are you doing them all that way or just the third?” Fitz frowned at his own screen, where he was working on a 3D digital model of something unrelated. He was, of course, intimately familiar with Jemma’s presentation, just as she was with his, but hers wasn’t the one coming up tomorrow and based on the calibre of today’s presentations, his graphics were in dire need of improvement.

Lost in concentration, the two of them lost track of time until there was a knock at the door. Jemma opened it to find Daisy on the other side, bearing a room service tray of what appeared to be piña colada. Daisy frowned at the room, littered with paperwork and conference material, as she stepped inside. 

“Wow, I was going to make a joke about how you’re working hard or hardly working, but it seems like you guys really are working hard.” She nudged a tiny model robot with her foot. “Getting separate rooms was a good idea. Maybe I should just go.”

“No,” Fitz objected, pouting. “I’m sorry, we should have come to see you.” 

“How’s the hotel treating you, at least?” Jemma asked. “You look comfortable enough.” 

Daisy sighed dramatically and collapsed onto the bed. She was wearing a fluffy robe, and slippers, unlike her partners’ day-old work wear: that, she had to be grateful for. 

“A girl could get used to it, I’m not gonna lie,” she confessed. “And being with two supergeniuses who can get me into sweet hotels whenever I want is an unexpected perk of this whole thing, but I miss my supergeniuses. What’s a dropout like me supposed to do all day at these things? You know, aside from swim and eat and get massages.” 

She wrapped her arms around Fitz from behind, and dropped her chin over his shoulder. He pointed at the screen as if to show her something. 

“Actually,” he said, “tomorrow there’s a session on Citizen Science and Climate Change that might be quite interesting for you. It’s all about how the Internet and phones and other GIS help people map phenomena and coordinate responses to floods and things… and that’s not what you meant, is it?” 

Daisy laughed. Fitz rolled his eyes, but Jemma was no help; she was covering her own mouth too, barely hiding her grin. Daisy kissed his cheek. 

“I love you, sweet man, but you’re terrible at flirting. You’re lucky you’re so good looking. And smart. And, you know, willing to literally bend the laws of physics for us. Otherwise you’d be useless.” 

Fitz looked back to Jemma, who gave him an apologetic look, and a shrug as if to say, _she’s not wrong._ But there was a smile on her face, a cheeky smile that told Fitz Daisy was smiling like that too.

“Oh, okay.” Fitz nodded, pretending for the moment that he hadn’t noticed their smiles, or the way Daisy was pressing her breasts into his back. “Okay. I see how it is. It’s gang up on Fitz time, is it? Alright, we’ll see who’s laughing after this, right? Let’s go.”

He made to spring forward after Jemma, so Daisy released her arms, only to find that he turned back and leapt at her instead. Daisy shrieked with laughter and thrill and anticipation as he chased her back up the bed with kisses and hands flying all about the place, until he had braced himself over her and she lay on her back in the thick quilts, staring up into his ocean-blue eyes that shone with entrancing admiration. For a moment, she was speechless, and then had no choice but to confess: 

“Yes, alright, you’ve got me. I’m still not sure that counts as flirting, though. That’s some kind of Pokemon shit right there.” 

Fitz laughed. “It’s what?” 

“You know: Fitz used ‘Ridiculously Blue Eyes! It was Super Effective!’” 

“Oh, it’s my eyes, is it?” Fitz mused, cool and thoughtful, as if the topic of his notorious gaze had never come up before. “Interesting, interesting. I always thought it was my hands that you liked most.” 

Daisy saw it coming the moment before she felt it; he stroked the fluffy edge of her dressing gown and then dived beneath it, shoving open the loose tie as he ran his hands over her hips, belly and breasts. Chest tight, all but holding her breath as heat flushed across her skin, Daisy stammered: 

“Well that’s- those are nice too, I guess.”

“But not flirting,” Jemma clarified, strolling over to get a better view. “Just so we’re clear.” 

“Maybe flirting isn’t the most important skill when it comes to wooing a woman,” Fitz suggested. “Maybe, you’ve got to be good at other things too.” 

“Like what?” Jemma challenged. 

“Like… kissing, is important,” Fitz said, and he followed this by kissing his way down Daisy’s neck and between her breasts until she squirmed in surprise and sensation. He grinned, up at her, then at Jemma. “And, you know. Other things too.”

 _“Like?”_ Jemma pressed, leaning in. She was practically licking her lips. 

“Well, I believe you once called it, ‘snorkeling.’” 

“I meant actual snorkeling! That wasn’t a euphemism.” 

“You keep telling yourself that, dear.” 

Fitz grinned wolfishly, and lowered his face to Daisy’s abdomen once more. He placed another kiss there, slower this time, and felt a shiver run through her body. Daisy reached out, and upward, and laced her fingers in with one of Jemma’s hands. She was struggling to think of a witty rejoinder, as her body yearned for the attention. In all honesty, she was curious though. Fitz’s fingers were his comfort zone, he preferred to use his mouth for kissing, but he was damn good at that and this… well, it was just kissing with more nerve endings, after all.

“Will you quit it with the peacocking and fuck me already?” she demanded. 

“Sorry, yes, of course.” But he still looked plenty smug as he sat back and readjusted, lifting one of Daisy’s legs over his shoulder. He hummed to himself at the sound of her wetness pulling apart, and dragged a finger down the inside of her thigh for good measure. “You know me, Daisy. I like to take my time with these things.” 

Daisy rolled her eyes, frustrated as her legs tried increasingly to hump nothing, to clench around thin air. She gave Jemma her other free hand, trying to squeeze out her anticipation, but Jemma only lay beside her to whisper in her ear, _you’re going to love this,_ and that only made it worse. 

Well, worse for a second, and then Fitz kissed her knee, and it was like all the power of those magical blue eyes had translated into touch. Her hips melted into the sheets, and her legs fell open, pliant to his touch. As promised, he took his time about things, but he left her skin singing under his kisses, so she couldn’t begrudge him that, even as he crept closer and closer to her centre without quite touching. 

Jemma had settled into the cushions at the top end of the bed, squeezing Daisy’s hands back as her own arousal flushed through her. She had been fortunate enough to experience this particular brand of Fitz’s pleasure, but of course she’d never watched him go down on Daisy like this before. The ridges of Daisy’s skin and the shivers of her pleasure were just as much a joy to watch as the reverence with which Fitz scattered the tremors through them. The hitches in Daisy’s breath, so much like her own, made her heart stutter and she lost herself in a feeling that was at once pleasure, and the memory of pleasure. 

Daisy moaned aloud when Fitz’s tongue finally brushed her clit. It was a jolt of electricity, sharper than she had been expecting, but he quickly soothed it and eased into a rhythm. It took him a little longer to navigate with his tongue than it did with his fingers - not being able to rely on sight, and feeling everything differently between lips and teeth and tongue - but navigate he did. Relishing the opportunity to relearn her body and the way she moved, he was careful not to overstimulate, dancing and kissing and sweeping through her slick folds, tasting her arousal for a while before he came back to the clit itself. On his journey he found the places that most pleased her. That made her press down. That made her pull up. That made her shiver, or suck air through her teeth, or whimper and nuzzle into Jemma, or try to pull him closer with her legs. 

Gradually though, Fitz let go his mapping exercise. His hips grew tense, groin eager for his own release, and Daisy’s breath and movement was starting to come in a rhythm, building toward something that, with her hands still intertwined with Jemma’s, she was relying on him to give. He chased her pleasure, dancing over the landscape he had learned until he found it, the best place, and gave it to her. His lips and tongue and breath, his skin and hers, and hers and Jemma’s, built together into something where mapping was pointless. Where time and place were irrelevant. Where there was only pleasure, and the taste of her falling apart. 

Eventually he sat up, and gently lowered her leg to the bedsheets beside its partner. Together, they shivered and twitched with the aftershocks of orgasm, and Fitz smiled as he dragged his eyes up her body, to her chest, breathing hard, her breasts exposed as she leaned her neck back to kiss Jemma with the passion that surged through her. Now that she was on the other side of the crest, her kisses grew tired and sloppy and soft, and she gasped for breath, and Jemma peeled away from the kiss, smiling. 

“Damn, okay,” Daisy breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from Jemma’s even as she addressed Fitz. “I’ll never make fun of your terrible puns again. You can ask me if I fell from heaven every day if you want, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I just did.” 

“Aw, babe,” Jemma crooned, stroking Daisy’s hair and frowning down at her. “That was terrible. He’s rubbing off on you.” 

“Oh, excuse me little miss ‘I think we have chemistry, ha ha, get it, chemistry,’” Fitz butted in. “I didn’t realise you were suddenly the expert in flirting.” 

Jemma looked up then, turning suddenly smouldering eyes on him. Her smile was still soft, her lips pink from kissing, but the sparkle in her eyes promised mischief as she turned his own line back on him. 

“Perhaps flirting isn’t the most important skill when it comes to wooing somebody,” she said. “Perhaps, you’ve got to be good at other things too.”

Fitz smirked, matching her playful mischief with his own, and challenged: 

“Like what?” 


End file.
